


Dreadnoughts, Portals & Satomobiles

by ItsaVikingThing



Category: Avatar: Legend of Korra
Genre: F/F, Fluff, Humour, Korrasami Secret Santa 2020, Seasonal Shenanigans
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:35:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,411
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ItsaVikingThing/pseuds/ItsaVikingThing
Summary: Most people in Republic City don't celebrate the Fire Nation New Year, but Asami Sato did when she was a child and wants to again now that she and Korra are together. But when a crisis pulls Korra out of Republic City and leaves her stranded far to the south with only a couple of days and no good options to get back to Asami in time, it looks like it would be almost impossible for them to spend their first major holiday together.Of course, when it comes to the woman she loves, Korra isn't going to let thealmostimpossible get in her way...
Relationships: Korra/Asami Sato
Comments: 21
Kudos: 109





	Dreadnoughts, Portals & Satomobiles

**Author's Note:**

  * For [TheWillowTree](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TheWillowTree/gifts).



> For the fountain of warmth and good cheer that is the wonderful Pauline. You asked for sweet and cuddly, and that's not exactly how this starts, but I hope you like where it ends up!

“Who tries to take over the southern coast of the Earth Kingdom in _winter_?” Korra growls, pacing up and down as she looks for something to kick. Given that she’s inside a cramped, musty campaign tent containing only a general and a flimsy table covered in maps and reports, there’s neither much room for pacing nor any suitable targets for Korra’s wrath.

“Warlord Zheng, apparently,” General Tsung offers tentatively, perhaps recognising Korra’s mood and that he’s the only thing in the vicinity that would be satisfying to kick. “Before you intervened, Avatar, she had thought that she could complete her annexation and inaugurate herself the Emperor of The Southern Provinces by the end of winter.” Tsung plucks a piece of paper from the table. “Ah, yes. I believe she’d made plans for a coronation on New Year’s Day.”

 _That_ makes Korra cease her pacing, but only because it makes her whole body rigid with anger. “By Earth Kingdom reckoning,” Korra bites out. She touches her pocket, reassured to find that the envelope she’s been carrying for a month like a good luck charm is still in it. “If you keep to Fire Nation traditions, then the new year starts in two days’ time.”

“Ah...indeed.” General Tsung raises his eyebrows. “Regardless of which date she was aiming for, Zheng will spend this and many other years in our custody. Cause for celebration, surely?”

“ _Celebration_...?” Korra groans, and forces herself to relax. “Yeah, it’s just that…”

It’s just that Korra’s spent the last two weeks hunting an elusive foe while Zheng’s loyalists did everything they could to prevent the moment where Zheng’s ambition was tested against the might of the Avatar. It’s just that, while Zheng has been defeated and the prospect of a stable Earth Kingdom has become a little closer to reality, it wasn’t before Zheng’s saboteurs destroyed miles of railroad and a dozen bridges, damaged the airship Asami loaned to Korra and disabled Tsung’s radio. It’s just that winter storms are making the roads difficult to travel by Satomobile and the seas dangerous for most vessels.

It’s _just_ that if there’s one thing Korra really resents about megalomaniacs who attempt destructive, world-shaking schemes of villainy and other unpleasantness, it’s that they show so little consideration for Korra’s _schedule_. Time and again in the last ten months, Korra has found herself having to change or cancel plans at the last minute because she has to put on her Avatar boots and Avatar-stomp the next wannabe Kuvira who springs up in the Earth Kingdom. 

Given how thorough and Avatarly the stomping Kuvira received was, Korra really isn’t sure why so many people want to follow Kuvira’s example. She supposes, though, that just because someone is a violent megalomaniac, it doesn’t mean that they can’t be an optimist too. The latest warlord to discover that it didn’t matter if their metaphorical glass was half-full or half-empty--at least, not when Korra is around to metaphorically fling the contents of it in their dumb, warlord face--has had perhaps the worst timing of any of them so far. Because it’s winter, and the Solstice has just passed, and instead of being in Republic City and within snuggle range of the woman she loves, Korra is stuck in a shabby tent in a muddy field with no more fighting to do and nothing left to Korra-stomp, let alone Avatar-stomp.

And she feels like stomping _something_ because this is her first real winter with Asami since they became a couple, and they’d been planning to celebrate the new year together in accordance with Fire Nation traditions.

It’s just that...the United Republic of Nations and the Earth Kingdom reckon their New Year differently, but _this_ holiday is something Asami used to celebrate when she was a little girl. It’s just that Korra remembers every detail of the story Asami told her a few months ago, of being five and going on a rare trip to the Fire Nation, of waking up to snow on the ground, to having the luxury of a whole day with both her parents, to the gift of yuans she’d spent on sweet things and how she’d almost made herself sick gorging on them to her parents’ bemused horror.

It’s just that Asami has lost so much over the years, and Korra wants to give as much as she can to Asami in their new life together. It’s just that Korra wants to be _there_ but she’s stuck _here_.

“...I’ve got things to attend to back home,” Korra says, sighing out the last embers of her wrath and allowing her body to slump.

“Of course, Avatar. And I’m sure we’ll be able to effect repairs to your airship very soon! And my engineers are working on reopening the roads north. I’m confident we’ll have you safely back in Republic City in a week or two.”

Korra rubs her face, then sighs again. “Yeah. Thanks, General. I know you’ve got a lot of work ahead of you, too.” Korra goes to the folding table and looks over the maps. Red pencil marks show all of the routes that were closed off in a doomed attempt to isolate the Southern Provinces from the newly appointed democratic forces of the Earth Kingdom. “Zheng really made a mess, huh? I could probably manage the journey by foot, but it’d take too…uh, anyway.” Korra shakes herself. She shifts one map aside, considers another, and snorts. “Oh, of course, if I wanted to go _south_ quickly, Zheng’s left _that_ option open! Plenty of routes to the coastline. Ha, I could probably make it to my parents in the South Pole faster than I could Republic City. Well, I could if I could find the right kind...of...ship.”

Korra blinks, then shuffles through the papers on the table until she finds the list of military assets in Zheng’s possession. She checks the map again, running her finger from the position of their camp to a port town only a few hours away on one of the roads still in good repair. Slowly, Korra grins. “General Tsung? I need to borrow a fast vehicle and a good driver.”

* * *

Korra jumps out of the truck before it’s stopped moving, tossing a quick ‘thanks’ over her shoulder before she accelerates into a sprint she maintains until she reaches the harbour. She grins when the town buildings give way to the waterfront, revealing the quays and the boats and what Korra’s _really_ looking for: Zheng’s dreadnought.

Which is there, at the far side of the harbour. And which is also tipped over and mired in a sandbank and sporting a very large hole in its otherwise battered, crumpled hull.

Korra skids to a clumsy halt on the muddy street, almost colliding with an elderly woman who is trudging up the street, bundled in a large coat and shielding herself from the persistent drizzle with a faded red umbrella.

“Hey,” the woman snaps, “watch where you’re going, oaf!”

“Sorry, but I’m Oaf Avatar,” Korra says quickly, “and I’m on official Oaf business! Uh, no, I mean, I’m Korra and I’m on _Avatar_ business! I...look, what happened to the dreadnought?”

“Do I look like the harbourmaster to you?” the woman asks peevishly.

“Well, uh...I mean, I don’t really know what they look--”

“Precisely! I could be the harbourmaster, just as I suppose you _could_ be the Avatar, though I can’t say I’m convinced. I’m sure the _real_ Avatar doesn’t run around clumsily knocking innocent people over.”

“Ha! Well, I have been known to...” Korra blinks. “Uh, that is, no! Of course she doesn’t! Nothing clumsy about her! Er, me. I’m very graceful, in fact! Normally, but...anyway, yeah, could you point me towards--”

“I’m not, you know,” the woman interjects, poking Korra in the stomach with a dangerously pointy finger. “The harbourmaster.”

“Right. Good to know! It would be even better if you knew where the harb--”

“If _I_ was the harbourmaster, I wouldn’t have sent anything out into the water at this time of year. Not when the elephant-walruses are migrating south. But that old fool Wu thought a dreadnought would be safe to send out fishing. Ha! You can see how well that worked out.”

She waves triumphantly at the ruined ship. Korra looks it over again, recognising now the dents left by irritated giant flippers, the holes made by enormous, peevish tusks and the distinctively crumpled steel left behind by the squeeze of outright angry trunks.

“Riiiiight,” Korra says slowly, sweeping her eyes over the harbour again and noting the distinct absence of anything helpful like a speed boat or a battleship. “So pretty much small fishing boats left, huh? And there wouldn’t be any vessels I could charter to take me to the South Pole today?”

“Even that old fool Wu isn’t _that_ foolish,” the woman snorts. “The harbour is going to be locked down for at least another week. If you wanted to travel south by sea, you picked the worst possible time for it.”

“Yeah…” Korra says absently, looking out past the harbour, to the sea where she thinks she can see the outline of huge trunks breaking the surface and unfurling to suck in lungfuls of air. “Huh.”

“Yes,” the woman says cheerfully, poking a hand out to test the air. Finding it dry enough, she shakes her umbrella over Korra, adding, “I dare say you’ve wasted your trip here! Which serves you right for bumping into me and lying about being the Avatar.”

“Right, right, definitely,” Korra says, rolling her shoulders and stretching her neck. “So, how fast did you say these elephant-walruses can swim?”

* * *

Korra sails through the air, limbs flailing, and barely manages to summon some air to cushion her fall before she hits the beach hard enough to leave a crater in the wet sand. She groans, takes a few seconds to figure out where her legs are relative to her arms, then pushes herself to her feet, swaying dizzily.

A hundred yards away, a thick trunk emerges from the water, trumpeting in what sounds like a mocking fashion.

Korra snorts sand out of her nostrils, then cups her hands around her mouth and yells, “I _said_ , I’m the Avatar and I need a favour! Come on, it’s not like I’m asking you to go out of your way! You don’t even need to surface, I can make my own air!”

The only response she gets is another trumpeting roar. It’s _definitely_ mocking her. 

“Fine,” Korra growls, narrowing her eyes. “Let me put it another way: since you messed up my ride out of here, you owe me a new one. I _want_ to do this in a friendly way, but the truth is I’m getting kinda cranky and I’ve been in a stomping mood all. Day. Long.”

Korra raises a fist and brings it down in a sharp gesture. Out near the elephant walrus’ trunk, a huge plume of water rises up and comes crashing back down.

The trunk vanishes, then reappears, snorting out water. There’s another cry, this one far less mocking and with a strong undercurrent of uncertainty.

“Okay. We’re making progress.” Korra cracks her knuckles and wades out into the surf, her eyes glowing. “Let’s try this again, shall we?”

* * *

Korra stumbles onto the icy shore, propelled by a friendly shove from a powerful flipper.

“Yeah, yeah!” Korra chuckles. She waits until she’s not swaying _too_ much before clumsily patting the immense grey limb still sticking out of the water. “You know, you’re not so bad either, once you stop trying to violently pulverise everything that gets near you. I’m glad I sorted out your toothache for you. Tusk it easy out there, okay?”

There’s a snort that sends spray thirty feet up into the air, and then with a flick of a flipper and the thrust of a tail, the elephant-walrus departs.

Once she’s figured out how to walk while only occasionally falling over, Korra makes good time from the ice cliffs to her parents’ house. The only tricky part, other than making all of the muscles that are exhausted from clinging to an ornery sea creature’s back while it cleaves through freezing waters at an improbable rate of knots continue to function, is the people. Korra doesn’t have the energy to wave at the people who greet her, or explain to the people who scream in terror that they probably wouldn’t look too good either after twenty hours of being dragged at speed underwater.

Instead, Korra focuses on smiling politely and putting one foot in front of another until she reaches the house she’s looking for. Once there, she very cleverly solves the problem of how to knock without the use of her arms by falling forward and letting her head thump against the door.

When it opens, Korra pulls herself upright and says to the fuzzy person-shape in front of her, “Hey, Mom or Dad! Don’t worry, everything’s fine! I’ve gotta plan. Need to borrow snowmobile now!”

She grins proudly, nods, then blacks out.

* * *

It’s night in Republic City. Asami is sipping cocoa on the balcony of her apartment and waiting for the year to end.

She’s alone, though she doesn’t feel lonely. Not entirely. It’s a strange time of year for Asami: officially, the United Republic of Nations follows the Earth Kingdom calendar, as does Future Industries, so there’s still months of this year left. But privately, Asami has always followed the Fire Nation holiday. It had been her mother’s favourite, focused as it was on family, on love, on the warmth that exists between people and keeps the cold of the world at bay.

Asami hasn’t had a chance to really _celebrate_ , though, not for a long time. She’d been hoping to change that this year, to find a joyful note to end a painful time on, but sometimes things have a way of not working out.

“There’ll be next year, though,” Asami murmurs, cradling her mug in both hands and leaning her forearms on the balcony rail. “And a lot of years after that.”

A pulse of light from the spirit portal draws her attention, making her smile. The portal has been pulsing and flaring in an array of colours for the last hour or so, and Asami abandoned the paperwork she’d been distracting herself with to watch as soon as she’d noticed. At first, she’d been concerned that Republic City was about to face some new danger from the spirit world while the Avatar was absent, but there’s been no bad news on the radio, no calls from any of the people who would call if there was danger. If anything, it’s been as soothing as it has been fascinating, watching the changing lights and marvelling at how the world has changed.

There’s another pulse, then all at once the portal ripples and changes colour again, this time becoming blue.

“She’s safe,” Asami reminds herself, smiling wistfully as the portal fully resolves itself into her favourite shade of blue.

It’s the most important detail, the reason she doesn’t feel lonely: the news that Korra defeated Warlord Zheng without loss of life or serious injury on either side. Asami has her regrets and she has her wishes: she regrets not abandoning Future Industries, even though she’d been deep in negotiating a difficult deal and reviewing several designs ahead of their scheduled launches in the coming months. She wishes that she had simply gone with Korra, or that Zheng had been less effective in cutting most lines of communication with Republic City so that Asami could have taken an airship days ago and gone to her. But Asami doesn’t know where Korra is, only that she’s alive and well and that she’ll be coming home to her.

That’s enough. That’s really all she needs, Asami tells herself: the certainty that she and Korra will be reunited soon, some cocoa, the occasional voice and sound of engines and tyres on the streets below as a lullaby, and the incredible view she has of the portal tonight. What else could she ask for, other than the impossible?

“Maybe a blanket,” Asami mutters, shivering as a cool breeze brushes across her face. The weather here has always been temperate, and since the spirit vines were woven into the fabric of the city, Asami knows the ambient temperature has risen slightly. It occasionally gets chilly, and even outright cold, but sudden dips in temperature are as rare as snow in Republic City. She frowns when the wind abates, but the chill in the air does not. “Oh, spirits. There _is_ something happening at the portal. There must be. It shouldn’t be _this_ cold. Not this quickly.”

She considers what course of action to take, whether she should call Tenzin or put on a heavier coat and drive to the portal directly, but something makes her linger. There _is_ something in the air, an odd feeling she can’t quite place, but there’s no sense of threat. There’s no sense of danger at all, unless it’s to the mechanism of a Satomobile’s gearbox, judging from the tortured sounds only a _truly_ inept driver can produce which Asami can hear from a few streets away.

Asami weighs her options, then goes inside. She deposits her half-finished drink in the kitchen, digs her warmest coat out of the closet and puts it on, then grabs her Satomobile keys and heads out of the door. In the time it takes Asami to descend to street level, the world is a very different place.

For one thing, the portal has returned to its original colour. For another, the night has become much, much colder. So much so, in fact, that Asami is only a little surprised when something cold and wet touches her cheek and she realises that it’s snowing.

“Oh,” Asami says in an awed whisper, staring up and watching fat flakes of snow falling lazily to the ground in the light of an electric street lamp. She takes off a glove and cups her bare hand, giggling with each tiny cold shock she feels when a new drop lands on her skin. “Oh...”

When she hears running footsteps approaching, Asami turns, her smile becoming a grin because she knows that, impossible or not, it can only be one person…

Korra collides with her, pulling her into a crushing hug that compresses Asami’s ribs and somehow isn’t tight enough. 

“You’re back,” Asami gasps, when Korra’s grip eases enough for her to manage to pull enough air into her lungs to be able to speak. “You’re back, and it’s snowing!”

“Yeah,” Korra says breathlessly, backing away just enough so that Asami can see her flushed cheeks and crooked grin. “Didn’t want to miss...tonight with you.”

“But…” Asami grips Korra’s arms, assuring herself that Korra’s really here. “How did you…?”

“Oh, the snow?” Korra chuckles, though her face gets a little more red. “You know, just a little bending here, a few spirit favours there…”

Asami blinks. “No, I meant how did you get here...wait. _You_ made it snow? Of course you did, why didn’t I realise that sooner?”

“I surprised you, showing up like this,” Korra says, resting her forehead against Asami’s. “Or you would have figured it out. You’re really smart.”

“I like to think so, though I do feel more dazed than smart right now.”

“Me too,” Korra says softly, and shifts so that can press a soft kiss on Asami’s lips. “I missed you. It’s good to see you.”

“You made it _snow_ ,” Asami says, kissing Korra back.

“Well, you said that other than having the people you loved there, the snow was one of your favourite parts of the New Year’s you spent in the Fire Nation, so…” Korra kisses the tip of Asami’s nose. “I’m back, and I brought you snow.”

Asami shakes her head, laughing. She stills when Korra touches her face, gently brushing what must be melted snow from Asami’s cheeks. When Korra’s done, Asami pulls her into an embrace and a much deeper, much longer kiss. They hold each other for a little while longer after that, then Asami eases away, catching Korra’s hand as she does. “It occurs to me that it is going to be very difficult to compete with the Avatar in the spoiling-my-girlfriend stakes.”

Korra coughs out a laugh. She lowers her eyes, but she looks pleased. “I, uh, have had similar thoughts about my beautiful, genius CEO girlfriend. Just so you know.”

Asami squeezes Korra’s hand, makes a mental note to scrap her plans for Korra’s next birthday in favour of something much more extraordinary, and decides to ease them away from anything that might make Korra feel shy. “You still haven’t told me how you got here. The last telegraph messages we got said you were likely to be stuck for at least a couple more weeks.”

“Well, it was a _bit_ tricky,” Korra says slowly, meeting Asami’s gaze again. “But basically I made it to the Southern Water Tribe by sea, caught a quick nap and a shower at my parents’ place, then they drove me out to the Southern portal and I, uh, called in a few favours in the spirit world to speed things along, and here I am!”

Asami raises an eyebrow. “I suspect there’s considerably more story there than you’re telling me.”

“See? You are smart!” Korra shrugs, her expression softening as her eyes roam over Asami’s face. “I’ll tell you every tiny detail tomorrow. I wanna focus on you tonight. On us.”

And now Asami’s the one who feels shy, but also very definitely pleased. “I think I can live with that.”

“Good! So, now we should...oh, wait! There’s one last thing!” Korra fumbles in her pockets, finally producing a slightly soggy envelope. She passes it to Asami, smiling sheepishly. “It, uh, got a little...things happened. In transit. Which we will get into tomorrow! But for now, here you go.”

“Is this…?” Asami looks at the envelope, a lot more battered, creased and both damp yet somehow _scorched_ than the ones she remembers her mother giving her as a child, but unquestionably of the same kind. She looks a question at Korra, who gestures at her to open it. When she does, Asami finds several hundred yuans in a variety of denomenations. “Korra! What is this? Why did you…?”

“Happy New Year! You said you used to get money as a present, so I got you money as a present.” Korra puffs out her chest. “I earned every yuan of it, too, all by myself!”

Asami laughs, then kisses her, because she’s happy and she can’t imagine expressing it any other way. She takes a moment to wipe some of her lipstick from Korra’s mouth, distracts herself into kissing Korra again, then finally recalls herself enough to say, “I don’t recall you having the time to take up a job that wasn’t being the Avatar lately, so...should I ask how?”

“Haha, ha, ah....yeah.” Korra’s eyes dip down, focusing on the snow at their feet and the past in their wake. “Let’s just say this is what’s left of what I earned during my wandering days. And we should probably talk about all that on a completely different day.”

Asami considers Korra for a moment. She knows that there are likely many stories from that time when Korra was alone and lost and in more pain than Korra has openly admitted. She knows that there might come a time when those stories and those wounds need to be aired, but Asami decides that that isn’t what either of them needs today. “You know...these sorts of gifts are only really meant for children.”

“So?” Korra looks up again, her teeth showing in a grin more dazzling than the snow mounding up around them. "Let’s start a new tradition. Let’s be kids for a day! Let’s enjoy the comforts of all this freezing weather! There’s got to be a night market open somewhere around here! I think we need to buy a terrifying number of sweet buns and maybe some spiced tea to wash them all down?”

Asami releases some of the happiness welling up endlessly inside her in a laugh and says, “I don’t know, what if I have a craving for dumplings and noodles, too? Think you could handle that?”

“Oh, I’d be willing to try,” Korra says, failing to hide the glee that transforms her face at the prospect of her favourite foods. “You know, for your sake. Obviously.”

“Uh huh.” Asami slips her arm through Korra’s, pulling her close as they begin to walk down the street. “Obviously.”

“Well, also maybe because I’ve barely eaten in the last two days, and _spirits_ I’m hungry!”

Asami laughs, leaning in to brush a kiss against Korra’s ear. “I appreciate the sacrifices you’ve made for me.”

Korra chuckles, bumping her shoulder against Asami’s. “Good thing you’re worth it, Sato.”

Asami slows her pace, letting Korra draw ahead of her for a pace or two before stopping, forcing Korra to turn and face her again. “I mean it, Korra. I appreciate everything you do for me. More than I can easily express. You make light of it, but all of this...” Asami sweeps out her hand, encompassing a spirit vine, the portal shining in the distance, the thickening snow, an abandoned Satomobile half-parked against and half-crashed into a lamp post, the city around them and Korra herself. “I’m...really glad you made it tonight, Korra. I’m so glad you’re here with me.”

“I know.” Korra tilts her head, studying Asami. She smiles. “And I meant it, too: doesn’t matter what I have to do, Asami. You’re worth it.”

They kiss again, sealing their lips around a promise unspoken and clearly understood.

When they part, Asami says, “I’ll have someone tow that wreck in the morning, and cover the damages.”

Korra ducks her head, chuckling weakly. “Yeah, I...didn’t have my glider and I was in a hurry, so I borrowed...and, uh, yeah. I only _slightly_ crashed, though, and I almost made it all the way to the apartment!”

Asami kisses her again. “I love you, Korra.”

“Love you, too, Asami.”

Arm in arm they resume their walk into the snowy city, too wrapped up in each other’s warmth for cold or darkness to touch them.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks very much for reading, folks! I very much hope that we all have good things to look forward to in the weeks and months ahead, and that whatever way you might be celebrating in defiance of winter, you have a good one!


End file.
